


Hear my voice (and drown)

by nik_nimmi



Series: An Ode to death [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Mark is a sailor, Mentions of Blood, Sirens, nothing too explicit tbh, tenhyuckwoo are sirens, woo isnt mentioned here but implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24575173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nik_nimmi/pseuds/nik_nimmi
Summary: Mark's curious, but he's not stupid. He knows they sing of lies; knows they sing what we wants to hear, show what he wants to see.He wondered if he screamed loud enough, would someone hear?Keep him away from the demise that tugged at every fibre of his being?Mark didn't know.And he didn't want to either.Alternatively; Mark is bewitched by a siren
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: An Ode to death [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776532
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	Hear my voice (and drown)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah idk either
> 
> Imp: #blacklivesmatter please support the movement. No human should be treated any differently for something they are born as, especially not something as simple as the colour of their skin. There are multiple links on all social media, even a Google search may suffice. But please, I urge you to showcase your support, in any way you can, even if it is just tweeting a hashtag or signing a petition.

Was it always so misty? Was it always so gloomy?

Mark wondered absent mindedly, guiding the ship through the raging waters. He slashed and tore upon the gnawing waves, the smell of sea salt heavy and brittle in the air. White sails fluttered restlessly against the picking winds, and as far as he could see there was no sign of calming waters.

Candle wax fused into his ear, a rope strangling the veins in his wrist. He turned the wheels around, his own white shirt rippling, black hair a blown mess. Curiosity thrummed in his veins, eyes searching around for any of his crewmates on board, searching for an anchor when he knew there was none.

After all, he had sent them away. 

A crash on the right, and his attention zoomed in to focus. The skies raged and raged, the water climbing onto invisible mountains in attempts to drown out the inky clouds. It was as though the two territories were tearing each other apart, and Mark wondred if Zeus and Poseidon had once again begun their quarrels.

His fingers itched on the wooden wheel , but he resisted. His heart sang at the sight of distant rocks, but he resisted. The air seemed to curl around him, tightening their grip to coax his control away.

He resisted.

He had heard stories. Stories of so many gone astray, stories of those who were smart and got away. Stories of the harsh lullabies, the sweet threats, an ode of death strung in the air while each man grappled for their sanity.

But there were no stories of those who survived. 

Mark's curious, but he's not stupid. He knows they sing of lies; knows they sing what we wants to hear, show what he wants to see. They fiddle the mind with illusions and fantasies, each one scavenged from the deepest of your heart and mind's desires.

Mark may not be stupid. But he is man, man who is prone to mistakes, man who is prone to failure. He is human, and humans always were too reckless for their own good, too fearful of what didn't matter and fearless against what did. 

Mark may not be stupid. But Mark is human, and humans _fall_ , fall in the way he does.

It begins with an itch to the ear, and loosening of the knots. It continues with a scooping of wax from one ear , and slicing of the rope from one hand. It ends with Mark defenceless, ends with him void of a safety cord, void of a barrier.

And that's when it hits him.

That _voice_.

No stories can do justice, to the melody that binds itself in the air, and pulls itself forward and away on the riding winds. No words could describe the sweetness that dropped from their words, words of a language long-forgotten, words of a past buried beneath years of the present. It is a symphony that revebrates inside his skull, a poem that embeds itself in each crevice of his beating heart. He feels rejuvenated, euphoric, ecstatic. To be understood, to be _heard_.

Mark's eyes widen, pupils dilating as his controls slips from him. Breaths ragged as his restraint spills out of him, seeps into the floorboards and washes away. Images flashes in his mind, paintings splashing themselves into existence in his imagination, his being troubled as it gave in so _so_ easily to the whims of his longing heart.

One step.

Another step.

His feet were bare by the time he reached the edge, the wheel thrashing around back at the deck. He wondered if he screamed loud enough, would someone hear? If he clawed at his throat for every inch of his voice to spill into the darkening skies would someone save him? Would someone hold him back? Keep him safe? Keep him away from the demise that tugged at every fibre of his being?

Mark didn't know.

And he didn't _want_ to either.

Because with another wave of fresh melody, he jumped into the deep waters.

*

"Oh, he's not a fisherman?"

A silky voice spoke from behind him, as his own hands cupped the washed up boy's freezing cheeks. Lips tinged blue, hair pooling water on the stone. 

He was _beautiful_.

Donghyuck has always liked beautiful things.

"I can sense what you think, dearest," drawled Ten. He clicked his tongue, as a wicked smile wretched across the span of his face.

"Do you want to keep him, or let him free?"

And Donghyuck considered the question.

The boy was _pathetic_ , that was for sure. Nowhere near the stenght of the sailors of before, nowhere near the mass of the desperate before. Muscle toned his body, but it was no more impressive to them who had seen much greater. He wondered what colour his running blood would look like, a lucious vibrant red, or a thining excuse of human life? 

Donghyuck dragged his nails across the boy's neck, sensing the warm pulse. The boy was pathetic, but a fire he had not encountered before _raged_ within him. He was not a siren for longer than his other two accompanying brethen, but even he could tell this one was something special. His desires were punny, laughable and brimmed with a child's naivety for a better future, for a better tomorrow. Swimming inside of him loyalty, trust and _so much more_ , it made Donghyuck wretch at the goodness of it all.

Eyes glistening, he looked at the two sirens behind him.

"Can I keep him?"

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly was watching ptg and onf kill this love (they KILLED it haha do you see what I did t-) and listening to some haunting orchestral vids. Do I continue this? Make a series? I'm not sure tbh but tell me what you think!
> 
> As always thank you for reading! Drop a kudosdon't be shy ;) ♡♡♡


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